


Watson's Anatomy

by doctorsdaughter



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 05:20:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1375267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorsdaughter/pseuds/doctorsdaughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson finds himself on the receiving end of patient care, in the hands of surgeons of a teaching hospital, the Holmes Brothers, Dr. Adler, Dr. Lestrade. His prognosis is to only stay there a week, but John of all people knows, a week can determine life or death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watson's Anatomy

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first multi chapter story in a long time and my first AU ever! So I'm excited. I am in fact stuck in the hospital like Dr. Watson, so if it takes me a bit to post more, it's because I've zonked out. But for now, have this preface!

John would get the intern who had graduated mere weeks before she was training, treating him at St. Bart's hospital. When he learned this bit of information about the women in front of him, the woman telling him about how she had just graduated at the top of her class so he had nothing to worry about, he suppressed a groan and waited for a bunch of questions she would ask instead of reading his chart, just so she would have the answers on hand to impress her attending.

None of this would be such an issue if the wait hadn’t been forever, until the sound of hacking, moaning, and crying all blended together in a symphony that only someone would hear in an Emergency Room waiting area. Eventually, he was led into his own room, and he was soon acutely aware about why so many patients required a sedative at some point during the stay. The room was basically a jail cell with only a sad attempt at a paint job in a blue color to make it look as though this were a room in a place with hope and not a place where more people never left. John was a doctor, and he simply knew the truth.

It wasn’t that he had anything against interns – all doctors start somewhere – it was the idea that interns believed they had nothing more to learn. And the woman in front of him, her voluminous black hair pulled back into a pony tail, her face twisted into a scowl as she tapped her pen against the clipboard impatiently as he wrote down numbers the nurse had left on the machine, was definitely an intern that stood to learn that there was more to medicine than what was on the finals of med school.

It was weird for army Doctor John Watson to be on the receiving end of care, and he immediately began to point out to himself what was wrong with the care and overall décor of what couldn’t be too different from a jail cell. It seemed like hours that the intern wrote off of the preliminary report. Wrong. Always ask the patient. 

“And you are?” the intern, whose nametag read Donovan, barely looking up from the numbers, murmuring something about a high blood pressure. Wrong. Look at the patient not the machines. 

“Watson,” John said “Dr. John Watson.” It only took three words for her demeanor to change, and suddenly he was more than just a patient to her. He was now someone who could be mentally grading her skills -- which he was. She quickly looked up, the tapping getting worse as she asked him a question, all irrelevant to why he was there, but he was sure she felt she needed to ask. Deciding he needed to have a bit of fun, he described exactly what he was feeling in the toughest medical jargon he could think of.

Donovan The Intern, too proud to ask him to use layman's terms, got up and left the room in a huff, shaking her head. John shouldn't have snickered, as he'd probably just delayed his stay by Donovan needing to tell an attending what the hell he meant, but it was funny. And he rarely got funny anymore. Plus, all he'd done is teach her humility. That wasn’t so bad was it?

"You mean to tell me...you couldn't understand he was saying his leg hurt??" A deep voice boomed. John could tell that it was coming from across the hallway, but the man’s voice made it sound like he was right outside the door. “You know what, I’ll take the god damn man with a sore leg, why don’t you go take the impacted bowel in three.”

There it was. Donovan The Intern had just had her first lesson in humility. Even though John was a bit put off by how patronizing the man’s was about John’s leg, he laughed again at the thought of putting the intern he’d seen with a child who had an impacted bowel. Karma really was a wonderful thing.

When the door opened, it wasn’t the intern or the man with the deep voice, it was a kind nurse with long hair that had helped John check in, who wore a stunning amount of pink. He was told he would he seen by the ER attending as soon as possible, the man with the voice, he guessed, and they were so, so sorry for the wait any discomfort. He nodded, keeping a straight face until the door shut before bursting into laughter.

Civilian hospitals were wonderful.


End file.
